


Undercover Envy

by AJ_Lenoire



Series: Avengers Fan Fiction Collection [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Jealousy, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJ_Lenoire/pseuds/AJ_Lenoire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A less boy-scout element of Steve's personality comes to light on an undercover mission to apprehend a HYDRA agent. Though everything goes to plan, there is still much to be said and done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undercover Envy

No.

 _No_.

**No.**

_This is a job._ Steve told himself firmly. _This is a mission. She is working, **you** are working, you have to be professional._

Of course, tell _that_ to the growing tightening feeling in his trousers. This evening was not going as he had expected. After the incident with the Winter Soldier in May, Steve thought nothing of working with Natasha. She'd proven nothing could throw her, not even lip-locking on an escalator. He had had to admit it had been a genius move, though the more he thought about when he said "uncomfortable isn't really the word I'd use" the more he realised it would have been perfectly adequate word.

Along with _interested_ and _confused_ and possibly _aroused_.

But now he was faced with a more pressing issue, in that he had been very wrong. Fury hadn't been kidding when he'd said Natasha was comfortable with anything, because the scraps of SHIELD that were slowly forming a new alliance now had a new objective: find and destroy HYDRA. Natasha had instated her new covers and was once more ten faces in one. This also meant she could now work field missions once more.

On this particular occasion, she was wearing a blonde wig, her normal red curls pinned up underneath. She had told Steve that, before SHIELD, she had dyed and cut it instead of wearing a disguise, and that it was probably only due to the variation of super-soldier serum in her body that had stopped it falling out altogether. It looked nice enough, but didn't suit her as much as her natural red did. But the intelligence they had gathered on the target had stated that he held a penchant for French blondes.

So that was who Natasha was pretending to be; Camille Veunoire, the elegant, intelligent and sadly unmarried French underwear model - according to the bio Stark had mocked up at any rate, using Photoshop and a copy of the photos of "Natalie Rushman" he had saved to his hard drive. He was playing backup, a role usually left to Clint, but he was on his own mission in Bulgaria, also tracking down HYDRA agents, and had not been able to come. So now STRIKE Team Delta had a new recruit. He was keeping an eye on Natasha as she entertained the HYDRA agent, a pretty good-looking Hispanic man, much to Steve's ire.

Because "keeping an eye" basically meant watching from the widow of the building across the street holding a sniper rifle, whilst she danced around the room in her "modelling clothes", and he was poised to intervene. Their mission was to kill him, but that was more Natasha's mission. She would gather as much intelligence as she could, then kill him. Steve was here in case something went awry, though when it came to the Black Widow, things rarely did.

And though everything was going swimmingly, he was really fighting the urge to pull the trigger on the man anyway; because watching him drool over Natasha was not in the slightest bit pleasant. He wanted to pull the trigger, be done with it, and take Natasha back to her floor in the Avengers Tower, not even the room they had in the hotel, the Tower. He still didn't feel it was safe for her outside, and he was tired of watching this man salivate over her. It reminded him too much of what he had seen of her file; how she was forced to prostitute herself at the KGB's request (well, orders), and it made him sick to see her have to do something like that, be sexualised and dehumanised because of her appearance. SHIELD knew she was a formidable combatant, true, but they picked her for these missions because she could tempt men, not because she could kill them.

So when she gets the intelligence and snaps his neck, Steve feels a sort of smug satisfaction when she finally kills the double-crossing pig; he looks considerably _less_ attractive with a broken neck, and she saunters out of the room wearing the slip of a dress she entered with (which barely covered more than the lingerie, to be honest) as though nothing has happened. Later, when the screams come, when someone finds a dead body unexpectedly, no one will know it was the Widow who did the job.

And that is why she is the best at what she does.

Though, once more to be frank, that is not Steve's issue on the matter. Rather, its how she is forced to basically prostitute herself for SHIELD. She told him that when Clint brought her in, when he "made a different call", the deciding factor was that SHIELD promised she would never have to follow through with her teasing, not unless _she_ wanted to; not unless it was, in her professional, individual opinion, the best way forwards. She was happy at SHIELD, it gave her a sense of purpose and she liked that she was atoning for her past transgressions; wiping the red from her ledger.

Until, of course, HYDRA emerged. Which is probably why the smirk on her face as she leaves the room is a little harder to hide than it normally would be, because she finds there is a lot of satisfaction in this revenge.

"Mission accomplished." He hears in his comm unit, her voice quiet; she is in a crowded space. As if he doesn't know, though, he's been lying on his stomach with a rifle for three hours, and he can't help it when a relieved sigh escapes his lips as he is finally permitted to move. His left foot has gone to sleep and he shakes it irritably.

"Rendezvous at Location Alpha." She adds, and he shakes his head before he realises she can't see him. Well, she probably can, because she's that good, but not clearly enough.

"No." he says, "I'll meet you in the street, hang on." He knows its against protocol and its dangerous but where is the danger? He's Captain America and she's Black Widow, they're hard to kill.

Seriously, there have been many who have tried and failed.

"Captain," Natasha's voice is warning, but he cuts her off,

"Widow." He says in the same tone, "I'll meet you in the street, hang on."

He looks different as opposed to normal missions. For the sake of camouflage he's not in his stars and stripes, but rather the uniform he had when SHIELD fell, just all in black, even though the star (which is supposed to be white but isn't) is still on the front. It's like someone just spray-painted the normal uniform a dark colour. He's in as much of a disguise as she is; no one suspects he's the Captain when he's not in red, white and blue. But even if he was, he'd still be saying to regroup in the street.

* * *

Natasha's not pleased when he meets her down in the street, and the way she's pursing her lips means she doesn't care who sees that she's pissed.

"That was _not_ protocol." She tells him by way of greeting.

"In case you hadn't noticed, SHIELD is basically gone." He says in a low voice, "So protocols are basically gone, too."

She frowns at him, and he knows he's reading her. "Stop it." He says irritably, but she doesn't. He knew she wouldn't. He hates when she reads him because it makes him feel as though he's announcing his inner thoughts to the world. But he also knows why she's reading him. She rarely does, makes a point not to read her friends unless she's really worried. He's usually more compliant with protocol than this, even if SHIELD _has_ fallen, even if he _does_ find protocol annoying.

But whatever Natasha's looking for, she evidently doesn't find it.

"What's gotten into you?" She asks him, brow furrowing in concern. But Steve can't answer properly, all he can think about, for some reason, is the HYDRA agent, drooling over Natasha, touching her, asking her in French if he might _coucher avec moi ce soir_. Forgetting, perhaps, that she is the Black Widow and could kill even him in about three hundred different ways, he grabs her arm and marches down the road to the hotel they are staying in, where he says nothing, in uncharacteristic, stormy silence. He marches them up to their adjoining room, and slams the door behind him with both hands.

In the room, Natasha is fuming. Angrily, she pulls the blonde wig off and glares at him.

"What the hell, Rogers?" she demands, and that's when he knows he's in real trouble, because she doesn't usually call him Rogers. Yet, for some reason he just doesn't care. He just looks at her, for some reason as furious with her as he is with the dead guy.

"We could've been in danger, I wanted you out of the way." He tells her, his voice relatively even, but controlled. She scoffs,

"Don't give me that crap," She snaps, " _You_ were the one who wanted to meet in the street, then you drag me back here like you're my dad who caught me shagging my boyfriend!"

"Well you _were_ practically shagging him!" Steve retorts, starting to lose his temper, and not giving a damn.

"So _what?_ You could've _compromised_ us!" She yells, "We could've gotten killed and you justify that because I was _doing my job?_ "

"Well I don't know how you work with Clint, but when you're dry-humping some Italian guy DON'T EXPECT ME TO JUST STAND BY AND WATCH!" He roars.

Natasha stops dead, mouth open in shock. All of a sudden Steve's anger is gone and he wishes he could take that back. He's said too much and he wants to take it back, but life doesn't work that way. He wasn't supposed to say that; he wasn't supposed to admit she had compromised him. It was supposed to stay quiet; quiet and professional.

However, Natasha, to her eternal credit, is very cool and very calm for a whole minute, mulling it over before she speaks. When she does, its in an uncharacteristically small voice.

"I..." She doesn't seem to know where to begin, "Steve..." she tries again, her voice careful and slow, "You know its not real, right? You know it's all acting?"

He sighs, "I... I do." he admits, "But when I see some guy drooling over you...kissing you... _touching you_... It doesn't seem like enough." It seems like a lie. She is almost too good at what she does.

And he's not sure how they went from screaming at each other to what happened next, but he would not try and change it for the world. Because he looks down and drops her gaze, suddenly ashamed of his behaviour and back to his more usual self. But he looks up when he hears Natasha approach him, when he feels her near him. The next thing he knows, she's grabbed the front collar of his uniform and pulled his head down to meet his lips with her own.

Her kiss is gentler than he might have expected, even if the initiation of the kiss was classically Natasha. Her lips are soft and sure against his own, and soon she moves her hand from his collar to the back of his neck. His own hands come to rest on her back, and he pushes against her, growing hungry, for her kiss and for her promise; that this is real, that the HYDRA agent wasn't. She obliges, her other hand fisting in his blonde curls and pulling him down even tighter. At some point his gloves come off and the straps of her dress do, too, so they're resting on her elbows, the top of the black strapless bra she was wearing for the HYDRA agent's "pleasure" showing. He turns them around, his lips still fierce on hers, and takes a step forward, so she's pressed against the wall.

His lips comes away from hers to trail kisses down her neck, and he relishes the sound of her breath, hitched and ragged. He finds a sweet spot on her throat and a squeak-turned-moan escapes her lips, which makes him smile a little against her skin. That sounds pretty real; much more convincing than the sounds she made when the agent was kissing her. But he wonders if that is because he would need more convincing than the HYDRA agent, that maybe she is playing him, too, she just needs to put in a little more effort.

Which is why he has to pull away. He has to make sure, so he forces himself to stop kissing her for just a moment, to look at her, to _know_. But she's the Black Widow, she's the best at what she does, and so she knows what's coming.

"Tell me..." He begins. Her pupils are dilated and her breathing is heavy, just as his own pupils are, and his own breathing is, "Tell me this is real. Tell me you're mine." His fingers dig into her upper arms and his blue eyes are big and fearful, "Please, Natasha," He begs her, "Tell me this is real." Because he would rather stop now and never touch her again than have her play him like some HYDRA agent. He doesn't want this to be some public display of affection to make people uncomfortable. He wants this to be him and Natasha, kissing and touching and possibly shagging each other senseless because they _want_ to. Not for some act.

One of her hands is on his chest, over the black star on his sniper uniform. The other was on his shoulder, but now she moves it over the back of his neck to pull him down, and just before she reaches up to kiss him again, she whispers her reply.

"Of course this is real. I was only ever yours."


End file.
